Sold My Soul
by TheSpangerArmada
Summary: The life of a pirate is not an easy one. After meeting an angel and deemed crazy, he is tossed overboard only to be picked up by a familiar stranger. SpUk


**Yaoi** AU Hetalia Fanfiction

**Britannia Angel/Pirate England x Pirate Spain**

Written by Author A  
"This is a song fic based on the song 'Sold my Soul' by The Used.

Feel free to look up the lyrics to see my inspiration."

Rated for Sexual Content and language

Disclaimer: We do not own Hetalia or its characters.

The Spaniard groaned as he woke up outside the tavern's back alley, broken bottle in hand and sweat dripping down his brow as emerald eyes looked to the bright skies. For a moment, he was confused on how he got there…until he remembered the events from the previous night before and sighed, gathering his captain's hat from the ground beside him and placing it on his head. Lately, Antonio had been wondering about his life. What he was to become if he continued on his course…His taste for adventure and fortune knew no bounds as he raped, pillaged, and gathered infamy…but still, the Spanish pirate felt no satisfaction. No matter how many men or women he fucked, how much gold he stole or innocent people he killed, there was a gaping hole inside of him that could not be filled; like a hunger that was never satisfied. As tales of his infamy grew, so did the rumors, and it wasn't long until people began saying that he must've sold his soul to the devil and given his heart to the cold depths of the ocean. After a time, he himself began to believe it as he destroyed everything he touched in his path; and still, only one face came to his mind...The only one who had ever made his infamous life of piracy have some meaning as he continued a life-long search …a blonde angelic being who he had at first believed a Siren on the waves of the ocean.

Antonio had been traveling around the tip of France on the Bay of Biscay near the Celtic Sea when with his spy glass…he saw him. The Spaniard had fallen in love at first sight; a gentle glowing light that emanated off his body, the soft, downy, wings attached to the being's back had made him tremble in awe, and for a moment…if only a moment, the angel smiled his way with a knowing look. Antonio had nearly abandoned his own ship, throwing down his hat to dive into the waves and join the beautiful blonde as he sat upon the rocks by the treacherous shore. They would've torn him apart for sure if the brunette hadn't taken a moment to blink, believing the apparition to be a trick of the eyes at sea…and as soon as he did so, he was gone.

After that, of course, his motivation for piracy had taken a fall for what was probably the better. And he was consumed by a raging fire in his heart to find the being…to know his name. It was only several months later when he had ended up where he was now; walking with a slight sway and hangover back to his ship and crew where he boarded…heart crushed with many false leads, blood on his hands, and of course, everyone in the tavern threw him out.

_"An angel at sea?"  
"You're treading dangerous waters, mate. That was no angel!"  
"But look who you're looking at, hearties! Its Antonio…he's just insane!"_

"But I know he exists…" He mumbled to himself as he passed his crew mates and headed straight for his cabin, and for the millionth time in his life doubted in his belief, though his heart told him that somewhere out there the angel was truly real. But he had gotten a lead. Only a few weeks before had another pirate came as well, asking about an angel he had seen along the North Sea before being laughed off as easily as he had. There was hope.

* * *

Antonio was alone in his cabin, fully drunk and in quite a temper to match the rolling seas raging outside his private world, and the brunette flung his table over in anger, several glasses smashing to the floor in a fit. "What hell do you mean we can't continue on!" He growled at his first mate, who only took a step back closer to the door, trying to contain himself from trembling and showing weakness that Antonio was sure to exploit. The Spaniard was a terrible drunk, and not the nicest when sober either.

"The storm, Captain…we must turn back or sink!"

"That is blasphemy to any god you have! Are you a man at all? We continue on! The angel is waiting!" The brunette raged, much to the disappointment and fear of his crewmate.

"This is suicide…! Captain, I ask you to reconsider. We've a'ready lost crew to the scourge o' the sea!"

"Scurvy lubber! If you do not man the sails, I will do it m'self!" The brunette crowed, shoving his first mate out of the way as he opened the door of his quarters, immediately being greeted by pelting rain to the face and a wave that washed over the deck. "Hoist the colours!" He called over the howling winds, surprising several of the crew at their work stations as their unruly captain walked down the deck with a bottle in hand, shouting at the top of his lungs nearly loud enough to wake the dead that were strung through his rafters like ornaments. "We fight the storm!" Several of the men were terrified at this recent news of events, and despite looks at each other, continued on in their work as the drunken Antonio stalked the deck seemingly unaffected by the waves that crashed over the stern and took a drink, heading to the quarter deck.

"My angel…! Where are you…?!" He cried out to the vast expanse of darkness that blew violently through the air, tossing the bottle to the water as sea foam sprayed in his face, arms out to the wind. He could see him…just see the blonde hair and wings fluttering through the darkness in an expanse of light that he was sure to save his soul that he had sold long ago as he reached out over the edge; hand just about to touch the surely soft skin and about to look into the being's beautiful smiling eyes when… "Captain!" A voice sounded from behind him, and pulling away, frown on his face, the brunette turned, displeased from the interruption. "You dog! Get ba-" He was caught off guard as a sudden pain shot through his abdomen, and Antonio looked down, dark red blood soaking through his shirt as he felt the shift of his intestines begin to drip out of his stomach and the cold hit him through his drunken numbness. His eyes saw nothing but the sails as he had a sensation of falling, staring up at the black sky until the water over took him, and he felt nothing.

* * *

It felt like hours later when he opened his eyes, drenched and cold to the bone, washed up on an unfamiliar beach. But he was alive…and Antonio groaned as he sat up from his spot on the water soaked sand and grasped at his stomach. It was a pure miracle that he had even survived…surely the blood that had soaked his shirt had attracted sharks… Still, looking down to assess the damage, the brunette was surprised to see that his injury was completely healed; his shirt was as white and translucent as ever. Had he imagined it and simply fell off his ship instead? Was God really looking out for someone, even as low as him? Well! That sort of luck deserved a stop at the next chapel and some hail Mary's! As he attempted to stand up, the sharp pain to his abdomen returned suddenly, and the Spaniard doubled over on his knees, grasping at the sand. But, even for a miracle of God, he still supposed some damage to him was unavoidable… "¡Maldición!"

He frowned before freezing, hearing the crunching of footsteps in the sand. Immediately, Antonio tensed, ready to throw sand in his supposed attacker's face and make a run for it, even if it hurt like hell. There was no way that anyone should be around at the beach at this time…it was dark out, and the weather was still atrocious. The brunette hardly believed it would be someone come to help. Just as the footsteps stopped in front of him and he saw the edge of a boot, he grit his teeth, ready to throw, when the sweetest voice he had ever heard spoke to him sharply through the rain.

"You survived." The Spaniard looked up, an incredulous look on his face as he inspected the well dressed stranger; who had all the appearance of a Captain such as himself, though his accent was undeniably English. Antonio fought for words, but had to settle with a nod at a loss for what to think. The stranger's amused smirk made his heart flutter, and as he sat up, he took a closer look. He was blonde, had the same emerald eyes and…

"…Mi ángel..?"

"What was that?" The blonde said, lifting up the Spaniard's face to meet his once more with his boot. "Speak up, I can't hear you over the waves."

"Let me go." Antonio said as he pushed the other's boot away from his face, frowning. Impossible! This Englishman couldn't possibly be the angelic being that had captured his heart. His eyes were steeled, demeanor everything that mirrored his own. A cold hearted killer. A pirate. As he stood, the stranger watched, arms crossed and rain dripping off the brim of his hat, almost as if heaven above was crying upon the both of them, like devils on the scourge of the earth.

"Suit yourself. My ship was damaged in the storm and we lost some of our supplies and crew…I saw you, and thought you might be one of them." The blonde said as he shrugged it off like it was nothing, and pulled a gun from his side, aiming it between the brunette's eyes. "A shame. There's no room on this earth for landlubbers like yourself."  
"Wait." Antonio said as he put up his hands in defense and smiled, albeit a bit nervously as the other before him cocked the gun back in curiosity. "I'm a sailor that was washed up in the storm….I… could be of service."

"Could you?" The man laughed, putting the gun away and turning, motioning to the baffled brunette to follow as he began to walk down the vast expanse of beach. "If that's the case…I could use you. Otherwise, we'll find out soon enough whether you're worthy to be on my ship." Certainly, he was confused as he followed, standing up as straight as possible and ignoring the still searing pain in his middle to hide any weakness that could be exploited. Apparently, very few in the North Sea knew of him…or if they did, didn't recognize him. At this moment in time he was grateful for not being known, or he was certain he would've been shot on the spot. "Er….Captain…may I ask what I can call you, señor?"

"Hm?" The blonde turned with a small smile on his face, looking unconcerned to the world. "You can call me Captain."

* * *

As soon as he had boarded the ship, Antonio had been ushered into the cargo hold with the other crew mates, and began his daily work. It had all gone simply enough; for what he thought was weeks of sailing had paid off to information about their location; which he discovered was the English Channel. The ambitious pirate had worked his ass off each day, hoping to impress his own new captain, (which he discovered was named Arthur)…and for what it was worth, succeeded. And while hard work had paid off to better meals from the galley and making 'friends' that he hoped would become allies someday soon, he couldn't deny that he had a rather dangerous fascination with the captain of this ship. The angel that haunted his dreams still called to him somewhere out on the ocean; but for the time being he found it a worthy cause to spend days out on the deck and at night he couldn't resist being the one to volunteer for first watch... even if he was exhausted beyond belief. The stars were beautiful and crisp this far up north, and even if it was cold the brunette found himself wandering back to his earlier pirating days when he had been a simple sailor serving for his previous captain.

"Antonio." A quiet yet commanding voice came from the deck below, and the Spaniard looked down, immediately responding to Arthur's call, and climbed down from the shrouds to face his Captain. "Si?" He asked as he looked at him face to face, not being able to help feeling only the slightest bit nervous as the blonde Englishman looked him over then nodded with a cruel smile curled on his lips. "Come with me. We have something to discuss."

* * *

The crack of a whip resounded throughout the inside of the hull in the lower deck as it snapped against the brunette's back, and he cried out in pain. "Joder!" "..Hm…louder…" The Englishman said with a smirk upon his lips as he drew back his arm again, snapping the whip over Antonio's back once again. "Nn…" He clenched his teeth, hands gripping against the chains hanging from the wall before him. The damp air mixing with the small drips of blood coming from the lashes on his back sent a shiver through him, and the Spaniard did his best to hold back the cries.

"Why did you lie to me about who you are?"

"I…I don't know what you're talking about!"

"I know a liar when I see one…I can't be lied to." Arthur said with somewhat of an irritated tone then, holding the whip to his side as he walked over to the brunette, barely hovering over his ear as he spoke lowly. "Or…don't you know what I mean…Antonio Fernandez Carriedo..?" The brunette's eyes widened then, and he looked back at his assailant, eyes meeting defiantly. "Thrown off your ship when your crewmates committed mutiny…stabbed in the stomach, while drunk off of your arse. I know quite a bit about you." He said as he stepped back once again, this time a chuckle escaping his lips as he fully eyed the Spaniard before him. "Your eyes are asking me how I know."

"There's no humanly way possible you could know…" He growled back, struggling in his chains though they kept him immobile. This captain…must've been the devil himself! Arthur's hand reached out, hand running down the darker skinned male's chest, feeling only satisfied when he knew that the other was shivering at the touch. If anything, Antonio found the whole situation rather arousing if not confusing, and the attractive male in control suddenly dragged his nails down Antonio's stomach until he was writhing in pain. "Nn…ah…"

"You like the abuse?" Surprise and genuine curiosity was apparent in the blonde's voice as Antonio looked away, doing his best to focus on the floor and less on a more desperate problem that threatened to grow. His own sense of 'pleasure' had been warped in a long period of captivity in prison when he was younger. "….J…just…beat me…and get it over with…" He said with a slight pant, forcing his own wrists to dig into the metal as a distraction until they bled. Arthur on the other hand couldn't help a sadistic smirk as he pulled out a knife from his boot and drug it across the others back, causing a chorus of pleasured moans mixed with pain to grace his ear.

"Of course a sinner like you would…" Arthur said again as he moved the knife, dragging it more gently up to the Spaniards throat as he held his face, watching the reaction. "I can't hear you…" "Vete al infierno!" Antonio scowled, spitting in the others face and glaring at him with every amount of hatred he could muster. He didn't quite get the reaction he expected however; the Englishman simply wiped the offending fluid off of his face and smiled, moving away out of his view. "Only for you." "Tch….diablo…" He growled, expecting the worst now as he watched him leave his view, and instead of the whip like he was expecting, Antonio was greeted with bare hands clawing down his back and festering at his fresh wounds. "A-ah…!"

"You can't escape this, Antonio." Arthur said almost lustfully as he watched the Spanish man writhe under his touch. It gave him a sense of power that he hadn't felt in awhile. A sense of power…that he wasn't so sure he should've been wanting to feel. "As your current captain, I should punish you for insubordination…"

"Just torture me already!" The male in his control begged, whimpering at the pressure in his pants, and craving the pain he knew that would come to distract his subconscious mind of the past. Still, the blonde hummed as he took his time to enjoy the other before him, taking the whip in his hand again to lash at Antonio's thighs, the thin, sun-worn fabric easily tearing from the cured leather. "Fuck! Fuck…" The brunette's head hung low, panting and quivering at the sensations that had him laid raw with want. When the lashes finally stopped, and he feared the worst, Arthur came behind him, easily ripping the tattered fabric off his frame. "Look at you…aroused by that." He chucked as he ran finger down Antonio's hip, causing the pirate to flinch away. "Maybe…for all the hard work you've done for me…I should reward you, too."

"Do your worst to me, Arthur. Not even the pits of hell where you are from could get anything out of me." The Spaniard said with a flushed face, and despite his better judgment, turned his head and made eye contact. Thinking it a bad idea a second later, he felt himself unable to pull his gaze away as his heart fluttered like it had on the day they had met, those many weeks ago. The blonde, an ever widening smirk on his face, reached over, grasping the Spaniards face in his hands once again as he inspected it, never breaking contact. "You love me…don't you?" He asked as his hand traveled down to the others throat, squeezing ever so slightly that the brunette couldn't help but let out a gasp as Arthur's lower body pressed against his ass. When he didn't get a response at first, he squeezed harder, making the brunette choke out. "N...no…not you…someone who looks like you..."

"Someone… who looks like me? Is that so..." He mused as he squeezed a bit harder, thrusting his clothed member against the brunette who could only express his pleasure as he gripped at the chains holding him to the wall. It couldn't possibly be that this man, covered in sin, had a place in his heart to love anyone. "…And yet…you want me…" He whispered as he released the others neck, shoving his fingers to the others mouth. "Suck."When Antonio didn't comply right away, the blonde sighed in slight annoyance as he shoved his fingers into the others mouth, playing with his tongue. The brunette panted as his own tongue swirled around Arthur's fingers, gasping as the Englishman moved, his hand now pressing a finger to the others entrance, preparing him quickly.

"Ah…Fuck..Nng…"

"Be loud…I want to hear everything..."

It was a sin, he knew, to want a man so much at this moment in time…to want his own near rapist to comply and satisfy his wants and needs like no one else could. "You…" Antonio growled out his last, pathetic defiance as the other male moved behind him, undoing his own trousers and pressing his erection to him and his coherent words turned to nothing more than whimpers and needy moans as Arthur spoke his own pleasures in quiet whispers and fluttering breaths near his ear. "A..Arthur…!" He called out as he faced the wall, heart beating at a breakneck speed as the male behind him quickened the pace and clawed down his hips between each thrust. Closing his eyes for just a moment, Antonio could imagine that it wasn't really this man…this….diablo like himself. Instead; it was the beautiful being that had haunted him in his dreams every night. As he pulled increasingly hard on the chains that bound him between the rocking of the waves against the hull and the pleasing relief that pressed on his prostate behind him, the Spaniard opened his eyes to the sound of fluttering. The touches of the blonde behind him became gentler, nearly feather soft as the rough thrusting he had been receiving before slowed the pace and before his face a single black and white feather fell.

"A…arthur…?" He panted out when the movement had all but stopped and he felt the other pull out. He tried to hold back the whimpering need of his own release and give way to curiosity instead. "..Antonio…" A sultry voice broke the temporary silence, and the Spaniard felt himself blush; the cuffs around his wrist open, the jangling of keys signaling his release as he nearly fell to the floor, legs shaking terribly. "Wh…"  
"Antonio..." Arthur's voice came to his ears like a sweet sound as a hand pushed him to the ground, the brunette's fresh wounds and blood met the wood and he let out a hiss of discomfort before opening his eyes to meet the others, and he froze, not expecting the light blonde hair of the other to be so close to his face, nor the lips that greeted him there as Arthur lifted the brunette's legs over his head and resumed his previous position. "Nnn.." He moaned into the kiss as their tongues met, wrestling for dominance as Antonio held on to the need to release, somehow feeling like if he did, then the moment would be over…and he might be dead.

"I…can't..."

"Just a little longer…"

He whimpered as he pulled away from the kiss, head falling back to the ground as the other male quickened his pace, hitting his prostate repeatedly before the hardened pirate could barely take it anymore and he clung to the other male, crying out as his seed released, pouring over their bodies. "Fuck…!" Arthur moaned out only a moment afterwards as his own release came, and as he finished, Antonio couldn't help but look up between his fogged vision at a flurry of feathers that greeted his vision…and between them, two large wings that looked like they had been dipped in coal felt like they covered the small expanse of space that they occupied. It was then that he realized…the person before him was no ordinary being. It was impossible…and yet... "Mi… ángel..? …Arthur…" The brunette called out between breaths as locked eyes with the others once again, that angelic smile that he had been looking for ever since that fateful day greeting him with a gentle touch as he blacked out.

* * *

"…What's that?" A small, light-haired brunette said as he held the hand of his legal guardian, a pout on his face as he couldn't believe that they even had to visit the shore of some god-forsaken place in the middle of nowhere. "This..?" Antonio said with a small smile as he held up a bouquet of flowers in his other hand, feathers of various birds that he had collected throughout the year weaved between the brightly coloured plants. "…This is a gift…to a dear, dear friend…" The Spaniard said as his smile broke into a momentary indescribable look of sadness and he squeezed the smaller male's hand. "Lovino…" He said, a smile back on his face as he looked back out over the water as if the sea air would bring back every memory and make it real. "There is a saying…that for every sinner in the world, there is a guardian angel. An angel that when a sinner has reached his lowest point in his life…that will be there to pick him back up again."

"So?" The smaller male at his side frowned, seeing the point of the story going nowhere and he let go of Antonio's hand to cross his arms in annoyance. "So…" The Spaniard said as he leaned down at the edge of the cliff they were standing on, eyes never leaving the deep depths of the sea that called to him. "….They say the touch of an angel can forgive any sin…only the biggest sinners cannot be forgiven by God…and they say even an angel can become tainted and die if they touch one of the damned." Antonio's face contorted as he remembered waking up on the same shore they were on much later, only a large, fully black feather left behind that had crumbled into ash the moment he touched it. The ship, the crew, everything had disappeared before his eyes in an illusion of momentary freedom as he woke up fully healed, and only a few miles away from the nearest port.

"Che palle! I'm bored!" The small Italian said with a yawn, feeling left out and utterly lost at his guardian's ramblings. "Okay…okay. We'll go back to town and get some lunch soon..." The older male said with a small laugh, pausing for just a moment to toss the bouquet of flowers out into the water. His eyes followed it as it fell.

"Lovino…"

"What is it?" The Italian said with an exasperated sigh, looking over then freezing in shock as tears rolled down his guardian's still smiling face. Of all the time that he had been with him, the Italian had never seen him cry.

"Never forget your first love. They just might be your angel…"

* * *

I hope you enjoyed the story! Reviews are much loved!


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